


Sherlock Cats!

by ladyjohnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, cat!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjohnlock/pseuds/ladyjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are cats!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Cats!

Sherlock sat aloofly upon the garden fence under the sunlight. His tail swayed lazily as he basked in the warmth. Yawning widely, he regarded the white, moving van that had appeared on his street with one open eye.  
As the van slowed to a stop just next door, the grubby, white door opened and a short legged tabby cat jumped from the height of the van seat, landing lighting on his feet, though one of his hind legs appeared to have a limp in it. An older gentleman exited the vehicle, hobbling down the pathway of the front garden; cane in hand to support his steps.  
A light spark of interest briefly passed over Sherlock as he noted the cat, and his owner making progress to their new home. The owner clearly was a pensioner, ex-army. This was apparent in various ways; the way the old man held himself; frail but dignified, the expensive bungalow in which he was moving into; affordable with an army pension, and the crisp and neat way his clothes were folded into boxes, a very common army trait- the list could go on.  
His startling silver eyes wandered to the ginger tabby. A limp in the right, hind leg -possibly an old accident - although he could see no signs of an apparent scar.  
“Interesting” Sherlock- kitty mewed to himself.  
John stretched, his bum wiggling in the air as he did. He dugs his claws in the dirt nearby and dragged himself forward, stretching his hind legs, keeping the one with the obvious limp stretched out behind him as he lead down. He watched his owner protectively for a moment before looking around, eyes locking briefly with Sherlock’s.  
Sherlock's sleek fur bristled slightly as he caught the other cat’s eye, and a sense of predatorily instinct flashed between them.  
Sherlock quickly disregarded this with a turn up of his nose, and a “humph" sound, before strutting away rudely.  
Head still turned up, and tail erect, he marched down the fence, paying no more attention to John the cat. He had a case that required his superior knowledge, and he didn’t have time for any distractions, interesting or not.  
John tucked his sore leg back under him as he sat up proudly, his chest puffed out slightly, he turned from Sherlock and headed inside, his tail swaying and jolting up and down due to the limp.  
Sherlock had retreated into his own backyard. His mind had wandered to the current 'case' that needed solving.  
His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the appearance of his brother.  
Dark fur mirroring is own, covered Mycroft the cat’s body. He had a white tipped front paw (left) and a white speckle face. He was tubby from years of spoilt over feeding, and his stomach wobbled side to side as he plodded with effort across the garden.

It was rare for the pompous bastard to leave the house, though Sherlock bitterly.  
He turned his nose up in disgust, turning his head away quickly and sitting tall and proud as always, refusing to acknowledge his brother.

"Grumpy aren’t we today, brother of mine?" Mycroft’s voice drawled as he began licking a paw. "I suppose you've no-doubt seen the new visitors to the neighbourhood?"  
Sherlock took a breath in, puffing his chest out further, he closed his eyes and raised his chin a little "What of them, Mycroft?"  
"Well, as it so happens, I have a favour to ask of you, dear brother." Mycroft continued as he irritably flicked off some dirt from the yard that had begun to settle on his tail. "I want you to find out more about this new cat next door."  
He wiggled his plump, furry bottom before jumping upon the outdoor table. Perched upon the wood, he lay, more comfortable in his dirt-free zone.  
Sherlock looked to his brother quizzically. "Why's that? You want to use him in your little neighbourhood cat watch?"

"Well, funny you should say, that" Mycroft yawned a big lazy cat yawn. "I dislike newcomers in my circle, especially so close to home."  
He eyed Sherlock; "You of all people can appreciate that. I simple want you to analyse him, see if he can be useful to my "ahem" network. I suspect he is just your garden variety, human pet, but you never know."  
Mycroft was on his paws now, ready to return to the house. "I'd do all this myself of course, but you know how I feel about being outside in the "great outdoors".”  
Sherlock glared "I won't do your dirty work for you; I have the case to worry about."  
Mycroft cocked a furry eyebrow.  
"I regret to hear you say that, dear brother. I’m sure you'll come around."  
With that he turned and waddled back to the house.  
Sherlock watched him leave in disgust then sit up right. That cat...the one next door. He was curious about him –there was no doubt about that- with his limp, yet lack of a scar.  
The pride in his steps (even with the limp) and protective nature towards his owner -he'd never seen a cat like him.  
He grumbled heavily and padded after Mycroft "Mycroft....?"  
Mycroft had the smuggest expression Sherlock had ever seen, and it took all of his iron will not to just walk away.  
"Changed your mind so quickly, brother...?"  
Sherlock's tail flicked in annoyance, closing his eyes halfway and raising his chin, making himself taller than Mycroft, making sure he still held the power;  
"What do you need me to do?"  
 

"I'd like you to introduce yourself. Perhaps let him accompany you on one of your "cases"- Now don't protest, you only need to take him on one. Assess him Sherlock and report back to me this evening."  
He licked a paw, and swiped his ear with it prudishly.  
"Oh, and Sherlock?" He mewed. "Try to be polite -or at least as polite as you are capable of!"  
Sherlock glared a little and turned swiftly, flicking his head up like a stuck up Siamese cat. He padded off to climb into the garden next to theirs, turning his back on his insufferable brother.


End file.
